Haunted by the past
by ButterFish
Summary: Alfred gets work at his university to earn a little on the side, but his job seems dull and unnecessary. The administration is considering closing down the department he's working for and he understands them; who would like to pay Arthur for being grumpy, Francis for flailing around and Ludwig for never speaking? But perhaps these three colleagues are more than they seem to be. AU.


I didn't really have time for a job but I needed the money. I spent my youth being confused about what bachelor degree I wanted and after having skipped from university to university a few times, I now had a debt I couldn't see the end off. Whenever my financial adviser called me in for a meeting, it sounded like he was about to cry on the phone. I knew something had to change and since I wasn't about to become a lawyer or a doctor anytime soon, I guessed I had to skip meals, forget about sleep and instead just work my ass off to afford the books I needed for studying. If anything it would give me even less time to worry about my future. The idea seemed great at the time.

I was on my last year of my degree as the university sent around an e-mail to all students asking if someone had ten to fifteen hours a week to help out in the technical department. "You don't need to know anything about computers," they stated, "as long as you know how to move a table." I knew how to move tables, chairs, shelves - you name it! Growing up with a Mom who suffers from extreme hoarding tendencies, I had to move a lot of stuff just to get to my room. Studying for hours every day hadn't eaten up all the muscles I trained in my teenage years and I was quick to apply. Only two days later did I get a call from the administration:

"Get in touch with Mr Kirkland in the Technical Department, he'll tell you what to do." I was hired on the spot and I was ecstatic. For a while.

Monday was my first workday and as lectures ended I hurried down the stairs to the basement of the university to find the department. I'd never been in there and I had no idea what kind of work they did, so I just jogged around between shelves filled with old, dusty books and piles of chairs before I found the door in the very back. The basement smelled of mould and dirty water, and I prepared for the worst as I twisted the handle, but the office I stepped into was nothing like the dusty shelves I'd just rummaged through. Like an unknown oasis a bright, warm office space welcomed me with blooming flowers filling up shelves on the walls, scented candles dripping wax on every tabletop, and a basket stuffed with pastries smelling wonderful from the corner where a pot of tea was being brewed.

I stepped inside and slowly closed the door behind while I looked around. There was no on in the room but it seemed three people normally worked here; there were three desks, three laptops and three cups with names written on them, one on each desk. I passed them by as I read each of them: Ludwig, Francis, and Arthur.

"…see the news! What a disaster!"

I stirred as I heard sounds. A door was ajar to my left and a faint light was falling in. I could hear people talking and someone snickering. I cleared my throat: "Hello?" But no one replied. I dropped my schoolbag next to a big plant and unzipped my jacket as I walked closer. "Hello, is Mr Kirkland here?"

The noises grew: "They say it's going to rain all week. I say they're fools - my garden is as dry as a grandma's skin!"

"Hello?" I knocked on the door and it slipped open as my knuckles brushed against the wood. A small room was revealed; in between old printers a table had been placed with three chairs around it. Three men were sitting there looking back at me as I entered. I could recognise one of them; Francis was the tall, bony man with long, blond hair and an unshaven chin. I'd sometimes seen him in the administration on the first floor as he chatted with the secretaries. I didn't know who the others were.

The first to speak was a sturdy, blond man with a square face and a grave look to his eyes. As he stood up he reminded me of my dad; he was a sergeant in the army before a knee-injury got him to quit. I could easily see this man shouting at soldiers in the field. "What's the problem?" he asked.

"There isn't one," I said with a little smile. "I'm Alfred."

They were all quiet.

"Alfred Jones," I tried again. I was starting to feel dumb and in the back of my head I was replaying the phone call I got from the head of administration; didn't he tell me I was hired? Was I wrong? Was it the wrong day, the wrong place? "Isn't this the Technical Department?" I asked.

"Yeah, what's the problem?" the blond man repeated.

"Oh, wait, aren't you Arthur's new toy?" Francis snapped his fingers and looked at the man who hadn't said anything yet.

"Don't be a fool," he mumbled annoyed and stood up. "Here we have no _toys_, we only have workers. This ain't a brothel." He looked at me and I felt myself smiling foolishly as if I could soften up his harsh attitude with two rows of shiny, white teeth, but the handshake that followed was as rough as the way he grunted his name: "I'm Arthur Kirkland, I believe they told you to work for me?"

Arthur was a few inches shorter than me and a handful of years older. His hair was turning grey around his ears and his thick brows were already silvery to look at. But besides a few wrinkles by his eyes and the sides of his lips, his face appeared smooth and the hoarseness of his voice only added to his authority rather than maturity.

I squeezed his hand with a nod. "I guess so. They told me to just show up here," I said and Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Bastards."

"Ha, ha, Arthur has a toy," Francis squeaked in the back. He hurried to get up standing and reached for my hand. "I'm Francis."

"Alfred," I repeated and shook his hand. Then a third fist was pushed to my chest.

"Ludwig," the sergeant-looking man greeted and I shook his rough knuckles.

"Alfred," I said again with a dumb grin. "Uh, so do I work for all of you or just Arthur?"

"Work, work," Francis muttered with a little smile, "I don't know if you can call it work what we do."

"Don't demean yourself," Ludwig said flustered.

As they started chatting, Arthur placed his hand on my shoulder and pushed me back into the office. "I'll explain things to you," he said and closed the door behind. His gaze immediately fell on my bag by the plant. "Is that yours?"

"What?" I looked at it and picked it up. "Yeah, this? I didn't know where to put it."

"Are you a student here?"

"Yeah?" I glanced at him confused. "That was… kinda a requirement for the job."

"I see." Arthur scratched his chin in ponder before waving me to sit down in front of his desk. I took a seat while he settled by his laptop, typed something in and then turned to me suddenly. I rested my hands in my lap as he spoke and tried to look really concentrated. "I didn't want to hire anyone," Arthur said and I blinked.

"Eh, no?"

"No." He shook his head tired and pulled his cup close. His fingers inspected the name that was written on its side while his gaze never left my face. "We're the Technical Department, but we could be called the Technically Useless Department if you ask the administration. What we do has nothing to do with computers or the internet or your access to he local WIFI and whatever else you guys go around asking for. That's for the IT Department to figure out."

I nodded as he spoke although nothing made sense to me. All I could think was: 'Oh please, don't fire me on my first day!'

Arthur pushed his cup aside. "We do handy-work which is more valuable than you may think. Whenever a lamp doesn't work somewhere, we fix it. In the need of paper for the printers? We're there. Does a teacher need a shelf in his workspace to put up another useless book from the library? That's our job."

"That's why it stated I need to move tables," I said to sound engaged but Arthur just looked at me oddly.

"I never wrote anything," he said. "We never asked for anything. We don't need any help. The three of us live a peaceful living doing work behind the scenes, but because we're so damn behind the scenes than no one sees us even if they search with a magnifying glass, they've started to think we're useless." Arthur ran his fingers through his short hair as he sighed and leaned back into his chair.

I did the same and folded my arms while chewing on my lower lip. "So… you don't need me to work here?" I asked.

Arthur shook his head.

"What's my job then?"

"Don't you get it?" Arthur smiled a sad smile before huffing: "There are budget cuts everywhere in this country. The university is cutting down too. No one wants to get rid of themselves but everyone wants to see someone else go. Because no one has heard of us, everyone's in on this idea - hey, let's get rid of the Technical Department! The problem is they can't afford to see what we're doing. They can't afford a professional to look through our work and the pay we get to see if it all adds up. That's why they pay a student worker like yourself," he pointed at me, "a few dollars to go look around and when you've been here for a while, the administration will innocently ask you: oh, so how is it, what do you do? They're just waiting for you to say: nothing, it's the best job I've ever had, I do nothing! And bam-," Arthur smacked his hands together in a loud clap, "they close us down."

I watched Arthur's face as he spoke - he kept grimacing whenever he mentioned the administration. He reminded me of an old man watching television and complaining every time a politician says something on a show whether he agrees with it or not. I muttered a: "Wow, that's too bad," because I didn't know what else to say. The whole story seemed stupid to me and from what he was saying, I could only agree with them - I'd never heard of the Technical Department before that e-mail was sent around and I'd surely never seen anyone do any work. If all they really did was to put papers in printers and change a light bulb now and then, they might as well close it down.

But of course I didn't say this out aloud. However Arthur could read it in my face.

"You look at me like I'm an idiot," he said and I quickly shook my head.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Well, don't worry. I can't fire you." Arthur sighed as if it really pained him to say and he looked up at the plants above his desk. "They hired you so only they have the power to fire you. I just need to tell you what to do when you're at work."

"Okay," I said and nodded. "So, what do I have to do?"

Arthur shrugged. Then he pulled out a paper from a drawer in his desk. It looked like a schedule of some sort and he started plotting in my name at random places. "When can you work?"

"Every day after school. I finish at two," I said and stretched my neck to see what he was writing. "And during weekends."

"Don't you ever take a break?" Arthur bit onto the end of his pencil as he glared at the schedule. "Fine, show up Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays after class. We don't need you during weekends, the place is closed then."

"Gotcha." I smiled brightly. Arthur glared at me. I cleared my throat: "I mean, yes. Mr Kirkland."

"I'll see you tomorrow then." He put the schedule away and got up to leave for the other room. I quickly stood up and stuttered:

"I was told to come to work today?"

Arthur looked at me. "Go home. I'll write you were here for an hour."

"An hour?" I said surprised. I hadn't even been in the office for fifteen minutes.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll write you in for two then. Now head off, I have work to do."

I stood gaping as he slipped back to his colleagues and closed the door. I could hear them chatting loudly and someone started laughing. As I slowly pulled my jacket on, I tried to make sense of what had just happened, but I couldn't. Riding the bus back home all I could think about was that this job wasn't here to stay. The administration seemed to be right - Arthur and his mates were a waste of money if they could afford to pay me for being there to a fifteen minute conversation.

'I better keep looking for work,' I thought to myself and pulled out a book to study.

* * *

The next day I headed straight for the department after class. I almost got lost in between the bookshelves, but as I finally stood in the office again, everything was like yesterday - no one was present and no one was doing any work. I was about to reach for the handle to peek into the printer room but the door behind me opened.

"Alfred?" Francis called and I turned to wave at him. He was wearing a fine silk shirt and a pair of slim, black pants. He didn't look like he was working and as I approached him, I could smell nicotine on his breath. "I'll be putting you to work. Sorry I'm late, I was… busy." He fiddled with a lock of his curly fringe and smiled brightly.

"I thought Arthur was my boss?" I said and put down my bag.

Francis waved at me to keep on my jacket and I followed him back between the shelves. "He's busy," he said. "He asked to me take over. But don't worry, I know exactly what you can do."

"I thought you didn't do anything," I mumbled and Francis let go of a long, awkward laugh, but he didn't respond.

We walked through doors I'd never noticed and down slim hallways reeking of dirt and dust. The basement was like a maze and I found myself worried if I would find my way back. At some point I keyed a hole in the ruined tapestry with my nail in the hope that I could recognise my own mark if I ever got lost. Then suddenly we were outside.

Behind the university there's a parking lot which only the tutors are allowed to use. Between the walls of the building and the parked cars is a thick hedge and we were standing in this no man's land. Wet cigarettes and empty cans and general trash had been thrown all along the path and Francis picked up a piece from a wet newspaper and showed it to me. "This is what you'll be doing."

I glared at it. "Be picking up trash?" I asked and he nodded. "I thought I was going to move furniture and such."

"Well, this can be hard work. Here, take these-" Francis pulled out a pair of gloves from his back pocket. "There are bins to your right and a clock," he tied a wrist watch around my wrist, "right here. I'll be back in two hours to see how you're doing. Okay?""Okay?" I repeated hesitantly but Francis just patted my shoulder. He hurried back inside to warm his thin arms and I glared across the dirt. I knew people dumped all sorts of crap here but I didn't know it was this bad and as I started picking up the paper, gross, uneaten lunch packages and used condoms were revealed. "Disgusting," I muttered as I started dragging the bin along while throwing everything out in handfuls. I'd used the dump myself sometimes when in a hurry to catch the bus. I would throw my can of soda past the principal's car and just assume I hit the bin. Now I felt dumb for ever having convinced myself that the trash would just disappear, but at the same time the job seemed useless. No one walked here, no one looked out of the lower windows in the basement to see the dirt heaping up - what was the point of paying someone to keep it clean?

After an hour my arms were hurting. I stood up and grimaced as I stretched my hands out in front of me and heard my elbows crack. There were still plenty of cans and cigarettes to be picked up, but I needed a break. I found a smoke in the pocket of my jacket but as I reached for my lighter, I groaned - it was in my schoolbag which I left at the office.

'I'll never find it,' I thought to myself but still I headed inside and started walking the hallways. I guessed my way back by turning right a few times, left a few times and just heading straight past every other door. The basement was filled with noise but there was no one to be seen; the pipes above me would hiss and spurt water, somewhere metal was clinging and the sounds were echoing between the bare walls. I looked over my shoulder now and then almost expecting someone to be following me, but I was alone. I thought.

After a few minutes of jogging around I suddenly heard chatting. It sounded like someone was crying and I slowed down as the noises got louder and louder. I reached an open door and as I peeked in, I could see the backs of Arthur and Ludwig standing side by side in the corner of a storeroom. I held my breath as I listened to them; Ludwig was shaking while bawling his eyes out and Arthur's hand was stroking his back with care as the man muttered words of comfort.

"It doesn't matter what they say. You need to get past what they say," I heard him mumble and Ludwig shook his head.

"They're right."

"They're not right."

"She's dead. She's never coming back."

"It's not your fault. Damn it, Ludwig, pull yourself together!" Arthur pulled his hand back and I could see Ludwig wiping his eyes. They whispered something among themselves before Arthur gestured towards the door. I quickly pulled away and stood in the shadows as I heard them walk through the room. My heartbeat started going nuts as Ludwig slipped out of the door and brushed past me without noticing I was standing there. I clenched my sweaty hands as I waited for Arthur to do the same, but as I peeked to the side, I saw him standing in the doorway staring straight at me.

"What's your problem?" he asked.

I stood up and stuttered around my cigarette which dropped to the floor. We both stared at it.

"You're not allowed to smoke inside, Alfred."

"I know, sorry. I was looking for a lighter." I picked it up and watched as Arthur found a lighter in his pocket and handed it to me.

"Keep it."

"Thanks man. Uh, Mr Kirkland." I bit the inner of my cheek and stepped aside as he closed and locked the door without turning off the light.

He looked at me. "Aren't you going back to work?"

"Uh…" I looked down the hallway. "I'm not really sure where I came from."

"Is that why you were eavesdropping?"

"I wasn't!" I gaped and Arthur's eyes narrowed. I could feel my Adam's apple jumping up and down from the pressure of my blood. It was rushing through my veins as my mind was replaying what I'd just heard.

"What did Francis make you do?"

"Pick up trash behind the hedge."

"Okay, this way." Arthur started walking in the opposite direction of where Ludwig went and I followed him with quick steps. Though he was a short man he didn't waste any time - he was quickly around corners and it was clear he knew his way. As we walked, he pulled out a cigarette himself as if to prepare for us being outside and he fiddled with the filter as he started talking: "What do you study, anyway?"

"History," I replied.

Arthur looked at me unimpressed. "That can't pay a lot."

"If it did I wouldn't be picking up trash."

He shrugged. "Touché." We turned around a corner again and suddenly we were outside. The fresh air hit me and made me shudder, and despite the stink of rot from the food on the ground I was glad to be out of the narrow hallways. I popped my smoke back between my lips and lit Arthur's cigarette before turning back to mine. The taste of nicotine stroked across my tongue and left it dry and ticklish.

Arthur had a long drag of his smoke before looking up at the sky. He leaned against the wall and sighed. "So why history?" he asked.

The question surprised me a little. As I was fiddling with the lighter I was almost preparing to defend myself for having overheard him speaking to Ludwig, but instead he just continued on this light chit-chatting subject. I sighed in relief and licked my lips as I let the smoke out of my nostrils. "Well," I hummed and turned the smoke between my fingertips, "I think it's good to know about the past. Else we can't really know about the future."

"You think so?" Arthur was watching me closely now.

"Yeah, I mean, by knowing the past, we can understand the present and foresee the future," I said and felt clever, but the way Arthur grunted at me made me think he thought I was an idiot.

"You can't always predict the future from the past," he said and I nodded.

"True, but it's a great help."

Arthur was quiet and I didn't try to keep the conversation going. I inhaled, tasted the smoke and let go of it again slowly. I'd almost started to feel drowsy as Arthur suddenly yelped:

"Bullshit!"

I looked at him surprised. "Eh, sorry?" I said.

"You heard me. Bullshit. People like you, you're all bullshit," he said and snubbed his smoke out on the wall. "You learn things like that, things about how we need to prepare for the future by knowing the past, you all learn them but you don't think about them. It's bullshit. The future is nothing like the past and it's not based on it either. _Bullshit._"

"Okay, okay, I get you don't agree, man," I huffed and gritted my teeth, "but you don't have to go crazy about it."

"Finish cleaning and then go home for today," Arthur said and looked me in the eyes as he dropped the smoke to the ground right next to the bin. It was as if he was challenging me and I could feel an annoyance starting to burn through my body.

"I won't be finished if you do that," I said and pointed to the smoke, but Arthur just went inside without a word. "You're the bullshit!" I shouted at him, but the door had already closed and I doubt he heard it. I bit down on the end of my cigarette as I stomped on his, rubbing my heel to it until it was so deeply into the ground that mud and grass covered it. "I'm no toy, you said that yourself," I hissed, "so don't treat me like one!"

I glared at the spot. Then I knelt and dug the smoke up again before throwing it into the bin. I was paid for doing this work, but I thought to myself - if Arthur gets fired, I won't care. He's not worth the chair he sits on.

* * *

Wednesday was my day off and it was needed. Although I'd only worked a few hours so far, the confrontation with Arthur had made me so angry that I couldn't let go of the feeling. I sat in the school's cafeteria sipping coffee while flipping through the pages of my book on Alexander The Great as Ivan suddenly popped by.

"Hey," he greeted as he sat down across from me and smashed his plate with lunch down onto the table. He'd stuffed it with potatoes, chicken, two slices of pizza and a bowl of bread. Ivan was my classmate, a big guy with a big heart and a cruel form of humour. It was always a mixed blessing being his friend.

"Hey," I said and moved some of my stuff aside to make more space for him. "How's it going?"

"I'll rather hear how you're doing," he said and swallowed a slice of cucumber. "I hear you got work?"

"Yeah, in the Technical Department," I said.

"Do you do a lot?"

"I do… something," I said hesitantly and shrugged. "I started yesterday, so-"

"You work for Ludwig, right? Ludwig Beilschmidt?" Ivan interrupted me and looked me straight in the eyes.

I wrinkled my brows. "Yeah? I mean, his name is Ludwig, one of them… Why?"

"Wow, damn." Ivan grinned and started stuffing his mouth with potatoes. "Damn, damn, damn."

I leaned in over the table as I curiously asked: "Why? How do you know him?"

"Everyone knows Ludwig," he chewed loudly, "don't you know the rumour?"

"If I did, I wouldn't be asking you while you're eating. Shut it." I waved a napkin in front of him and he laughed and swallowed before continuing:

"It's said he killed his wife."

I glared at Ivan in disbelief. "…Ludwig?"

"Yeah, apparently he just got tired of her and, swhish-" Ivan ran his finger across his neck. "Dead."

"Wow."

Ivan kept eating as I stared at my book blankly. Ludwig was a murderer? I'd never heard the rumour but considering the conversation I overheard yesterday it made sense. But if he was such a bad man, why would someone like Arthur be comforting him? Unless, of course, Arthur himself was a bit of a bastard.

I flipped through my book, but I couldn't concentrate on it. In the back of my head I was already making a plan - I needed to figure out what was going on between the two of them!

But one thing is a plan, and another thing is reality. Thursday and Friday passed by without anything remarkably happening. Arthur kept making me do silly work like walking every hallway in school to see if any light bulbs had stopped working, or go knocking on the teachers' doors to ask them if they wanted anything thrown out. But though he kept nagging me all along, my days were pleasant; the hours passed by quickly and soon I was a few dollars richer without having done anything special to earn them.

Every time I slipped back into the office to ask about my next task, I tried to catch a glimpse of Ludwig, but he was nowhere to be found. I only saw Arthur working on his laptop and Francis would sometimes greet me while hurrying by with another bowl of freshly baked biscuits. I didn't blame him for never sitting still because if I'd had his workspace, I too would've been on the go constantly. It was stuffed with pictures of churches from France, small drawings of priests and crosses and notes from the Bible framed behind glass. It felt like a space of holiness which I didn't dare to touch and the staring eyes of the priests made me feel uncomfortable. When sitting by Arthur's desk waiting for him to come give me work to do, I would look at them and wonder why Francis felt the need to constantly have some religious authority watching over him.

"He's catholic," Arthur explained as I asked him Friday afternoon. We were heading towards the library to pick up some books to be put in the basement. "Do you need any more details?" I felt I did, but I also sensed not to ask him to give them to me. Arthur in general seemed to think I was a bother and he made sure I was constantly told he didn't want me around.

"The administration will pay," he would say, or: "There's no work I can't do alone," or: "Students study and men work." And he would always look at me afterwards as if he expected me to burst in anger. At times I felt like it; growing up in a family where treating others well was a valued talent, I couldn't stand the demeaning things he would say to indirectly make my heart beat faster and my hands clench to fists. But I managed to keep in my anger and just smile silly as it was expected of me.

'I need the money,' I kept telling myself, 'or I won't be a student for long.'

The following week I didn't see Arthur at all. Instead Francis kept figuring out silly tasks for me to do and he often told me to go home early. "Don't worry about the pay," he said. "I'll tell Arthur you were here for longer." As I showed up Friday for work, however, Ludwig was the only one in the office. He sat typing on his laptop as I entered and he looked up with a little nod.

"Francis is not here," he said and watched me dump my bag by Arthur's desk.

"Does that mean no work? Where's Arthur?" I asked and looked towards his empty desk. There were no biscuits standing out and the office didn't smell of tea. Ludwig was drinking coffee and my mouth watered at the sight of caffeine.

He raised his cup and had a sip. "He's out."

"Can I have a cup?" I asked and Ludwig just shrugged as if telling me to go ahead. He reached over and grabbed Francis' cup, handed it to me and watched as I filled it. "What's he up to?"

"None of your business." Ludwig turned back to his laptop and I sat down sipping my coffee while eyeing him. He was a quiet man; while Francis would chatter away and make sure the office kept buzzing, Ludwig would be as silent as possible as if he was trying to win a race in not speaking. I could've enjoyed it if it hadn't been for what Ivan told me about him. Instead of appearing calm and manly, the silence suddenly seemed psychotic. As if he was just waiting for the right moment to skip out of his chair and pour the coffee over my skin. I silently moved my chair a few inches back until my head rested against the wall.

Ludwig's space was pretty much empty. He had no pictures on his walls and his desk was clean but for a few papers he was working on. A single ballpoint pen was placed in the corner right next to a ruler, but that was it. No pictures of priests watching over him though I sensed he and not Francis needed the piercing stares.

As if he'd read my mind, he suddenly looked up and straight at me. "You think Francis is silly," he said.

I moved a little in my seat. "What do you mean."

"All the pictures, the quotes…"

"It seems a little… I don't know, too much?" I shrugged and Ludwig's eyes narrowed.

"Some people need the support," he said.

I narrowed my eyes as well. "You don't?" I asked.

I felt like I was in the middle of a cowboy-movie. We were both about to draw our pistols and shoot. But then the door swung open.

"I'm back!" Francis chirped as he entered the room and pulled off his scarf. He was wearing a long, Blueberry coat which fitted his slim frame. He almost looked like a woman with the curly hair hanging down his shoulders and if it hadn't been for his day-old stubbles, I could've been fooled myself.

"Hey," I greeted while Ludwig merely nodded.

Francis looked at me surprised. "Oh, Al! Has the bad man not put you to work yet?" he asked and Ludwig rolled his eyes.

"Please," he sighed but Francis waved him off.

"Come with me, Al," he said and I put my coffee aside as I got up, "I'll show you what to do."

Again Francis led me through a maze but in comparison to Arthur's hurried steps, he took it slow. He chatted about the weather and about some television show he'd seen, and I smiled while watching him getting engaged in his own little world. I wondered how a man like him had ended up in the Technical Department; Francis looked like someone who was supposed to model or do something within the fashion industry, not tell students how to pick up litter.

'I guess there's no helping it,' I thought to myself, 'if you don't have the right education. Maybe you're looking at your future, Alfred.' It made me feel upset and tired at the same time. I shrugged it off as Francis held a door open and led me into a storeroom. I could recognise it - this was where Arthur and Ludwig had their chat.

"We keep computers and laptops in here which need fixing but are beyond repair for our own IT-folks," Francis explained and swung his keys around his slim fingers as he pointed around. "The problem is that we just started collecting whatever without really sorting in it."

"So you need me to put everything in proper piles?" I asked with a tired smile and Francis looked at me almost apologetic.

"If you want to, you can listen to music while working?" he said as if to brighten my mood.

"Okay, thanks."

"Any questions?"

I slowly slipped on my working gloves as I looked around. My gaze fell on the corner where Ludwig had been bawling and before I got to stop myself from speaking, I turned to Francis and asked:

"Ludwig… Is the rumour true?"

"Huh?" Francis blinked and looked at me, the smile still stuck on his lips, but as he realised what I was asking his mouth slowly shrunk into a pucker on his face and he looked away.

"I think you should ask Ludwig that."

"You know I can't," I said and raised my brows a little. "I don't want to judge him, I just wanna know if-"

"He didn't kill her." Francis bit his inner cheek as he looked around and then straight at me. "Al, this really isn't for me to discuss with you. He didn't kill her, that's all you need to know, okay?"

"Okay…" I mumbled.

Francis looked at his keys and then he handed them to me. "Here," he said as I grabbed them, "Arthur told me you got lost last time. These open all doors. The blue is for the basement doors, the green for the teachers' rooms and the red for the front and back doors. You can get out with these keys if you ever get stuck somewhere down here."

"Oh, great," I said and waited in the awkward silence that followed.

"I'll leave you to it," Francis said and headed back out the door.

As he was gone, I squeezed the bundle of keys in my hand and hammered my fist to the wall. "Idiotic, Alfred, just great!" I hissed and grimaced at the pain of the keys digging into my palm.

I should've known better than to ask Francis directly, but I couldn't help it. As I started moving laptops and keyboards into different piles on the tables, I felt more and more dumb. Maybe Francis would tell Ludwig I'd asked, maybe I would get in trouble. Was there even a rumour? I'd been stupid enough not to investigate it but just believed whatever Ivan told me, but perhaps he'd just been spreading lies. It wouldn't be the first time.

But as it turned out, Ivan had been telling me the truth and Francis hadn't.

* * *

"Are you on the website yet? Okay, write in his name. No, not like that - B, E, I, L… Yes, Schmidt. Beilschmidt."

Friday evening I found myself on the phone with my younger brother Matthew as he guided me through the internet. I was in my room, my flatmates having a loud party in the living room, and I found it hard to hear everything he was saying as I tried spelling it out.

"Speak up, what should I press now?" I asked.

"Enter. No, the enter on the screen," Matthew chirped on the other end.

I did what he said and started scrolling through the results which popped up. "Which is it?" I asked. I could hear Matthew scrolling on his laptop too and I moved the phone to the other ear as I clenched it with my shoulder. "What did you say?"

"Third. Look at that one."

I scrolled back up and clicked the third link. An article popped up and covered the screen. It was nine years old and the writing smudgy as it hadn't been scanned correctly, but I could read a few words here and there. I saw Ludwig's name. I saw something about an accident. And I saw…

"He plead guilty?" I mumbled surprised.

"Seems like it," Matthew agreed on the other end. "An innocent man doesn't plead guilty to killing his wife. Try the fifth link."

I clicked back and went two links down. The next article was six years old and just as poorly scanned, but I didn't need good letters in order to read Arthur's name. "Wait, Mr Kirkland? He's my boss," I said.

"And apparently he likes murderers," Matthew hummed, "he's the one who got Ludwig out of jail to instead work for the university."

"That's fucked up!" I mumbled.

"Makes you wonder," Matthew smiled, "what your other colleague Francis has been up to."

I felt a shiver going down my spine. Francis tried covering up for Ludwig. It only made sense if his crime had been just as bad. "I need a smoke," I mumbled hoarsely and hung up on Matthew before reaching for my bag, but it wasn't at its usual spot on the floor. I got up and started looking around, but I hadn't left it anywhere in my room. That's when it hit me - it was still at school in the office.

"Damn." I sat down and rubbed my face in annoyance. There was no way I could get my hands on it before Monday when the school opened. Unless, of course, I used the keys Francis had handed me.

I glared at them. They were on my table. By the time I was done with work he'd headed off and forgot to ask for them back, so I just brought them home with me. I knew they were meant for an emergency situation, but now kind of felt like one, so I grabbed them and headed out the door without thinking too much about it. All I knew was that Ludwig was a killer, Arthur a bastard and Francis not to be trusted. I had the best job in the world.

* * *

As I hurried towards the university from the bus stop I found myself approaching it from the backside. I could see light on the first floor and a shadow moving around in the library. I wondered if it was the guard going a round.

'Shit,' I thought to myself, 'I can't be caught sneaking around at school at night.' I clenched the keys in my hand as I walked across the parking lot. If the front door was a no-go, perhaps I could make my way through the maze from the backdoor to the office without being seen. The risk of the guard walking the basement was slim - there was nothing of value down there and no one cared enough to rummage through the shelves to check. Making a quick decision I backed a few steps and then ran towards the hedge before skipping in over it. It turned out to be a bad decision; as I aimed for the ground my feet slammed into the face of someone who cried out, and we both hammered to the dirty ground.

"Owh, damn it!" the person beneath me moaned and I rolled off of them with a scared look to my eyes.

"I'm so sorry!" I breathed, my pulse rising as I grabbed into the dark to get a hold of them and pull them up. "Are you okay?"

The whining quieted down. "Alfred?" the person said and after a few seconds of glaring into the dark, I could make out a pair of green eyes beneath me.

I jumped up standing. "Arthur! Fuck, I'm so sorry, I had no idea that…" My voice trailed out and I quickly grabbed his hands to help him up standing. He was wearing gloves. As I looked down I realised the ground beneath me was completely clean. "Are you picking up trash?"

"Are you breaking into the school?" he returned the question.

I pulled out the keys and showed them to him. "Francis gave them to me. I forgot my bag earlier, so I thought…" Again I didn't finish my sentence but just stared at him.

Arthur looked different in the dark than he had last week when I met him in the office dressed nicely. Now he was wearing a worn cardigan and his face was dirty with mud. He looked like he'd been working out; his cheeks were red and his lips blue from the cold. "How long have you been out here?" I asked.

Arthur pulled off his gloves. "Let's go inside," he said and I nodded.

After I unlocked the door we walked the maze back to the office. We hurried as we heard the guard coming down the stairs and as soon as we were inside, Arthur locked the door. Minutes later the guard pulled at the handle, hesitated on the other side and then continued his round. Arthur breathed out in relief and sat down by his desk.

"I'm not allowed to be here either," he explained and for the first time I saw him smile an honest smile.

I grinned back at him: "We're like naughty teens!" before I sat down in front of him. Silence followed.

"Your bag's over there," Arthur said after a bit and gestured towards it.

I picked it up. "Thanks. Well, I should be on my way…" I was about to get up, but then Arthur cleared his throat.

"Francis told me you asked him about Ludwig," Arthur said and I froze in my movement.

I tried not to look at Arthur as I swallowed and smiled a little. "Sorry, I won't ask again," I said quietly.

"He killed his wife," Arthur said and I felt my heart skip a beat. I stared at Arthur who slowly nodded and then looked down at his hands. "It was an accident, but to Ludwig it didn't feel like it. They were driving and they got into an argument. He didn't look at the road for a few seconds. That was all it took. A few seconds and then he crashed. She died on the spot while he made it out alive."

I stared at Arthur as he spoke and sweat started forming in my pits and on my palms. My hands were slippery. "An accident?" I asked weakly.

Arthur nodded.

I swallowed but I had no spit to swallow. My mouth felt dry. "But he plead guilty?"

Arthur rubbed his fingertips across the tabletop. "He was the driver. He was the one who should've watched the road. Wouldn't you feel guilty?" he asked and looked me in the eyes, and I quietly found myself nodding. "Ludwig is a good man. He's quiet, but he's a good man. You can't always tell who people are or what they do based on the past, Alfred. No matter what your tutor says."

I fiddled with my bag. I felt weird inside from being told all this. "I'll head home now," I said and headed for the door.

"He needs this job as much as you do," Arthur said as he watched me unlock the door. "Not for the money but to feel like he's doing something to repay his sins."

I hesitated. Then I glanced at Francis' desk. "What sins has Francis committed?" I asked and looked back at Arthur. "And you?"

Arthur slowly pushed his work-gloves across the table. They were still dirty with litter. "I think you should go home now, Alfred," he said and I nodded. Without another word I left the office and made my way back through the maze. I didn't even think about where I was going. I just put one foot in front of the other as the thoughts spun around in my head. I wasn't sure what was the truth and what was a lie anymore.

Somehow I made my way out without getting lost. I crawled across the hedge and walked back towards the bus stop. As I looked back over my shoulder, I wondered if Arthur was back out picking litter up. He must have been, because as I arrived at school Monday, I found the path completely clean. I thought: 'He must have done something bad to feel like he has to work it off in this way.' But I couldn't have prepared for the truth.


End file.
